


Comfort

by CrazyTaraWitch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Baby!Fic, F/F, Swan-Mills Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyTaraWitch/pseuds/CrazyTaraWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blonde’s heart swells when she sees the outline of Regina cuddling Amelia in the rocking chair, bathed in moonlight. She can hear a faint humming, some half-forgotten lullaby, and even from across the room Emma is sure her wife’s eyes are closed and her lips turned up in a contented smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This was a random plot-bunny that turned into more of a story than I'd intended. I blame studying newborn care.

Emma’s not sure what’s louder, their daughter’s cries or her mothers’ groans. It feels like barely 10 minutes since she laid down after the last feeding, but when she glances at the clock she finds it’s been nearly two hours. A dark hand lands on her arm as she starts to sit up and she pauses, turning to meet her wife’s gaze.

  
“I’ll go,” Regina offers, and even in her daze Emma can’t help a small smile at the sound of Regina’s hoarse, sleep-filled voice.

  
  
Emma squeezes her hand in thanks but hesitates to accept. “What if she’s hungry?”

  
  
“We’ll get you if we need you,” Regina reassures, reaching out to tuck a long blonde lock behind her ear. She sits up and adds, voice holding more command now despite its tenderness, “Rest.”

 

Emma didn’t plan to drift off, but lately she can barely keep her eyes open. She wouldn’t give up a minute of it, not after how much she missed out on with Henry, but her exhaustion has left her borderline-catatonic more than once.

  
  
She knows it’s been a while when she wakes because the bed is cold beside her. Emma trusts that Regina would have come to get her if Amelia had needed to eat, but she can’t help the twinge of guilt and worry at leaving her wife to handle things. Regina’s a wonderful mother, always knowing how to calm their daughter and showing infinite patience, but nursing is the one thing only Emma can give.

It’s going on three hours now, longer than she’s ever gone in her four weeks of life, and despite the surprising silence in the rest of the house Emma slips out of bed without a second thought.

 

The blonde’s heart swells when she sees the outline of Regina cuddling Amelia in the rocking chair, bathed in moonlight. She can hear a faint humming, some half-forgotten lullaby, and even from across the room Emma is sure her wife’s eyes are closed and her lips turned up in a contented smile. Emma knows they didn’t need a second child, that they both would have been happy just them and Henry, but getting to see this, getting to raise a child with the woman she loves, seeing Regina this peaceful, it’s better than anything she ever could have imagined.  
Standing in the doorway watching her family, all she wants is to wrap them up tight and hold them close forever, keep them safe from snow queens and demented sisters and make sure they always feel happy and loved. Emma Swan knows better than most that promises like that can’t always be kept, that the struggles don’t stop once you find your happy ending, so she does her best to savor every moment.

 

Emma steps closer and her lips twitch when she gazes down on Regina’s face and sees she was right. Her dark lashes are still against her cheeks, and she’s so serene that for once every trace of the Evil Queen is miles away. She’s made no acknowledgment of her wife’s presence, and Emma is content to rest on the sill and merely watch.

 

The blanket Snow made while Emma was pregnant is draped across Regina, their tiny bundle hidden underneath, and Emma smiles to think of how far they’ve all come. Her family. Her everything.

 

Her chin is resting on knees pulled up to her chest when Emma lets out a yawn loud enough to startle Regina. Dark eyes shoot open and fear flickers across her face. Emma’s brow furrows in confusion when seeing that it’s only her does little to soothe the brunette.

  
  
“Emma,” she greets warily.

 

The blonde offers a half-hearted smile and wonders if she should push. Even after 3 years together there are still times when Emma doesn’t know whether Regina needs to be given space, needs to be nudged –-or even shoved-– into opening up, or just needs to be held. The longer she loves this woman, the more certain she is that she’ll never know all her scars, but that’s never going to stop her from trying to help the wounds heal.

  
  
With a small sigh Emma makes her decision and slips off the window to kneel beside the chair. She’s as tired as she’s ever been and she longs to crawl in bed and drift off with Regina wrapped up in her arms, but she can’t let this moment pass if it might come between them and their daughter. They both still have their insecurities when it comes to Henry, but this baby was theirs together from the first moment; they’re a team this time, and she’s not letting anything get in the way of that if she can help it.“Talk to me?” she whispers hopefully. Regina meets her gaze and Emma sees the moment when she softens, when she remembers this is the person who loves her.

 

She still tenses when she answers, and Emma suspects she’s clinging to their daughter now. “I just wanted to comfort her,” Regina offers softly.

  
  
“You do!” Emma insists, instantly fearing that her presence gave the woman the wrong idea. “Regina, I didn’t come check on you because I thought you couldn’t handle it. You’re an amazing mother; she loves you so much already, and so does Henry. We all do.”

 

Regina stills for a moment before she finally lifts the blanket and rests her hand on a tiny cheek where it's laying against her breast. The silk pajama top Regina wore to bed is unbuttoned, one nipple hidden in their daughter’s mouth. She sucks gently even in her sleep, and Emma flashes back on the memories Regina had given her of when Henry was little and slept sucking on his thumb. She thinks of how needed she felt the first time Amelia latched onto her, how close she felt to their child in that moment. Regina couldn’t provide the breastmilk Emma could, but this? Holding their daughter close and offering comfort? Emma would never take that away.

 

“Do you ever wish it was you?” Regina looks at her quizzically, clearly not expecting the question. “That gave birth to her,” Emma clarifies.

  
  
“No,” Regina says simply. “I wouldn’t change a thing.” She looks back at the baby then, her voice softening further. “But sometimes, I worry she won’t need me like she needs you, that I can’t give her everything.”

 

“You’re her mom. She’ll always need you. Just because I’m the milk machine,” Emma grins at Regina’s eye-roll, “doesn’t make you any less her parent. You’re allowed to want to take care of her. And if this soothes her,” she adds, placing her hand beside Regina’s on the back of Amelia’s head, “it’s okay. It’s okay to want this.”

  
  
“I do,” Regina whispers, so quiet the words are almost lost. “I feel close to her like this.”

 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, not ever. You’re a good mom, okay? I love you and our kids love you. And," she adds with a grin, "if I have to share your boobs once in a while, I’ll live.”


End file.
